


A Question

by arturas



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Doma the Dark Organization | Waking the Dragons Arc, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Oneshot, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:40:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26260549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arturas/pseuds/arturas
Summary: Valon has questions. Usually, Rafael has answers. Usually.
Kudos: 3





	A Question

**Author's Note:**

> Valon's about 14, Rafael's about 20, and the only warning applicable is for excessive lameness.

It was an overcast and miserable day on the Doma temple island; the kind of day that urged hot drinks, long books and silent hours spent in peaceful relaxation. Ordinarily Rafael would not have bothered with such a simple luxury. There were always souls to be captured or business work to be finished – as much as he valued relaxation he much preferred to spend his time productively. After all, the sooner their tasks were completed, the sooner the world would be purified.

Today, however, they had no active missions and for once he was up-to-date with his Paradius work (even his sense of responsibility didn’t counteract the fact he _hated_ doing paperwork). Gurimho was on the mainland on a solo mission; Master Dartz had sealed himself in the Hall of Souls to meditate; Amelda had performed his usual vanishing act to god-only-knew-where and Valon seemed content to do whatever it was he was doing in his room.

Rafael rationalised that even Swordsmen of the Apocalypse deserved down-time now and then.

He had just settled into one of the living-room armchairs with a steaming mug of tea and a dog-eared copy of _Soul Music_ when he caught the unmistakeable padding of socked feet down the hallways. He didn’t respond to it; in fact, if anything, he sank a little lower into his chair. Hopefully the newest Swordsman was headed for the bathroom, or the kitchens, or –

‘Hey, Raf?’

Rafael sighed heavily. Peace and quiet were _always_ too good to last. ‘What is it, Valon?’

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course.’ He marked his page and closed the book; with Valon it was never just one question and he knew better than to hope otherwise. Amelda seemed to have perfected the art of answering without leaving room for further questions (often without actually answering the initial question to begin with, somehow) – he had not. Therefore the sooner the questions were answered, the sooner he could return to his book and tea.

‘You know how I’ve been learning to read properly, all in English and stuff?’

‘Yes,’ he said, not entirely masking the confusion in his voice.

‘And you know how you said I should find something to read that was interesting and wasn’t just easy enough to get through?’

‘Yes.’

Valon shifted nervously from one foot to the other, arms folded loosely over his chest. ‘I had a think about it and figured since I like scary movies I should find scary books, see?’

Apprehension was beginning to replace the confusion in his voice. ‘Go on.’

‘So I asked Amelda if he knew any good scary books, ‘cause I know you only really like your magic and elves and stuff and that’s not really scary, and he gave me the name of some man what –’

‘Who.’

‘Huh?’

‘Some man _who_.’

‘Oh, right. Anyway, he gave me the name of some man _who_ wrote a bunch of scary stuff – even spelled out his name so I could write it down – and I found one of his books last time we were on the mainland.’

Valon paused briefly and Rafael’s growing feeling of apprehension once again mingled with confusion. Horror literature wasn’t his forte; as Valon had so eloquently put it, he preferred sweeping tales of might and magic. He’d experienced enough horror personally to be quite content never to read about someone else’s, fictional or not. ‘Who was it?’

Valon, as he was wont to do, ignored the question. ‘I don't know why anyone would reckon his writing’s scary – it’s all big words and things he reckons can’t be described even though people saw them, and everyone goes mad instead of being hunted down or killed, it’s not horrifying at all – but…’

His sentence trailed off and Rafael raised an eyebrow. ‘But what?’

Wary cerulean eyes rose to meet his. ‘The Great Leviathan. Does it have tentacles?’

If he wasn’t so certain the teenager had no concept of the phrase “non sequitur” he’d credit Valon with being the original definition of the term.

‘I don’t know,’ he answered hesitantly. ‘It could have – it sleeps beneath the sea, after all.’

Valon’s eyes widened further. ‘Beneath… that means under, right?’

‘Yes, beneath means under.’

‘So we’re capturing evil souls to wake up a huge monster that’s sleeping under the bottom of the ocean?’

Rafael winced. He was sure Master Dartz wouldn’t appreciate the Great Leviathan being described in quite those words. ‘It’s not really sleeping.’

‘Is it dead?’

‘No, it’s not dead. Gods don’t die. It’s… waiting, I suppose.’ His confusion had long since overtaken his apprehension. ‘It’s waiting until we’ve captured enough souls to return its power.’

‘So it’s not dead, but it’s not sleeping either, and it’s down at the bottom of the ocean and we’re feeding it souls to wake it back up.’ Valon gnawed at his lip for a second before he spoke again. ‘How old is it?’

‘Older than Master Dartz.’

Valon wrinkled his nose at the concept. ‘But he’s like… _really_ old.’

Rafael ignored the indirect insult to their employer and tried to remember what Dartz had told him upon first explaining the history of the Orichalcos. He was under no illusion that Valon had been told the same thing but, well, it _was_ Valon – the boy’s attention was lacking at the best of times. ‘Master Dartz once told me that good and evil are eternal. I’d say that probably makes the Great Beast eternal too – so asking its age is meaningless.’

Valon’s eyes had gone round at the use of ‘eternal’ and something niggled at the back of Rafael’s mind – some long-forgotten quote involving dead things and the concept of time. He pushed it aside, though, as the boy was now asking yet _another_ question.

‘What’s going to happen when we wake him up?’

Wincing once again at the inappropriate familiarity with the God of the Orichalcos, Rafael answered, ‘It will purify the world of darkness. All the evil in the world will be destroyed and a new world will be created – one without hatred, or pain, or darkness of any form.’

‘Yeah, I know that, but what’s _actually_ going to happen?’

‘I wouldn’t know,’ he said brusquely. _That_ was something he preferred not to think about. Master Dartz had been descriptive in his explanations but it was the kind of descriptive that could be taken for flowery prose or as _extremely_ literal depictions and he wasn’t sure which to hope for. ‘Why are you asking me these questions?’

Once again Valon ignored him. ‘Master Dartz taught you some of his gibberish, right?’

‘It’s Atlantean, not gibberish.’

‘Whatever.’ He thrust out an ever-so-slightly-trembling hand that clutched at a piece of paper. ‘Can – can you tell me what that means?’

Rafael’s apprehension returned as he opened the crinkled square of paper. Valon had evidently copied it directly from the source (his letters were _nowhere_ near that orderly if he was writing of his own volition and the words actually featured punctuation). What that source was, though, he didn’t have the faintest idea – the words looked like no language he was familiar with, including the scraps of Atlantean Master Dartz had taught him. How on earth was he meant to pronounce a string of consonants on their own, anyway? _Ph’nglui mglw’nafh –_

Oh.

 _Now_ he could place that quote.

‘You do understand that fictional means it’s not real?’ he asked with a heavy sigh.

‘But it all matches up! It’s sleeping under the ocean and it’s not really dead but not really sleeping and –’

Rafael lowered his head to rest in his hands with a soft groan, letting the scrap of paper sink to his lap. ‘No, Valon.’

‘But we’re even feeding it souls and when it wakes up it’s going to destroy the world and –’

He didn’t look up from his palms. On the upside, at least the boy had asked him and not Master Dartz – as patient as their employer was with the youngest of the Swordsmen, having his god compared to an insanity-inducing fictional construct would probably be a bit too much for him to take. ‘No, Valon.’

‘But Raf –’

‘Valon, those stories are _fictional_. As in, made up; as in, they did not actually happen.’ He reached for his book, tuning out the boy’s half-panicked protests. ‘Would I lie to you?’

Fearful blue eyes hardened around the edges – just a little. ‘N-no, but –’

‘Then believe me, and if you value your soul don’t go asking Master Dartz for confirmation.’ He flipped open the book to his marker and picked up his somewhat cooler mug of tea. ‘I can promise you that the Great Leviathan is not C’thulhu – but if you bring this up with Master Dartz I _can’t_ promise you that he won’t feed your soul to it so you can find out for yourself.'

**Author's Note:**

> In Valon's defence, it really does match up pretty much perfectly.
> 
> Not part of any AUs or spin-offs; just simply a plot bunny that refused to go away.


End file.
